Eyes Like a Wolf Page 21

  “What?” He looked at me in disbelief. “But we're bonded now, Rachel. We belong together—we need each other. You don't mean that.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I do.” I struggled to sit up and get away from him, away from the constant pull of my body toward his. There was no way I should want him again, not after what I had just been through. But I did, despite the ache between my thighs, I still did. I was sick, and not just physically. I looked away from him, looked around the warehouse in order to keep from meeting his eyes.

  We were still in the large iron cage, but now there was a gaping hole between two of the bars. It looked like a creature with immense strength had bent and broken its way through the side of the cage. Richard hadn't been kidding when he said sealing the bond with me would give him ten times his normal strength, apparently. But the damage to the cage didn't concern me nearly as much as what I saw outside it.

  Lying in grotesque heaps like piles of dirty laundry, lifeless bodies littered the warehouse floor. It was still very dark, but my night vision told me that Tampa was now less six or seven wiseguys. Along with Gravel Voice and a few others I didn't recognize, I saw the sharp features of Momo “the shark” Andretti. I couldn't believe he'd done so much damage while I was passed out.

  “Oh, my God, Richard!” I turned to him and noticed for the first time that there was blood drying on his broad, bare chest. “What did you do?”

  “I had to.” His green eyes were pleading. “It was either that or let them kill us both. That's what they came here for, Rachel, to see me put on a show and then to shoot us and get rid of the bodies. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I…I don't know.” The sight of so much blood sickened me, and I found myself longing for the familiar if boring existence I had been leading before Richard came back. I had disobeyed my mother's dying wish and let him into my life, and look where it had gotten me. Not content with incest and bestiality, I could now include mass murder in the list of delightful life experiences Richard had subjected me to. Suddenly, I couldn't stand it any more. I knew I had to get out of there, out of the cage and the warehouse where I had seen and endured so much and away from Richard who was the cause of it, or I would scream.

  I got to my feet, ducking away from Richard when he would have lent me a hand, and began gathering my scattered clothing. I didn't bother with the panties, nylons, or bra. I just shrugged back into my shirt and pulled my work skirt back up over my trembling, sticky thighs. There was blood on my skin—my blood—and other substances I didn't want to think about. I wanted to take a bath in the worst way, or at least a very hot shower, but I had a lot to do before I could sink into a hot tub filled with bubbles.

  “What are you doing?” Richard asked reasonably. “Where do you think you're going?”

  “First of all, I'm going to take Genevieve to the ER,” I said. As I said the words, I had a sudden surge of panic. “She's still breathing, isn't she?”

  Richard nodded slowly. “Yes. She never regained consciousness through the entire thing.”

  “Thank God for that.” The idea of my friend seeing what had happened to me was unthinkable. I didn't want Genevieve to have any permanent damage, but I was grateful beyond belief that she hadn't seen my shameful submission to Richard's beast.

  “You're ashamed of it. Ashamed of what we did, aren't you?” Richard asked in a low voice.

  “What do you think?” I snapped. “And don't you mean I'm ashamed of what you did to me?”

  He faced me, his big body tense. “Rachel, tell me now if I raped you. I don't believe I would have taken you completely against your will—even in beast form—especially in beast form. I can tell by your scent whether you want me or not. If your body is ready for mine.”

  “I—” I blushed hard, looking away.

  “What did I do?” Richard demanded, his deep voice insistent. “I need to know, Rachel. Did I force you down on the ground? Did I?”

  I thought of the way I had faced the bars and spread my legs. The way I had offered myself to him, dipping into my wet sex to tempt him with my scent. But what other choice had I had? I shook my head.

  “Well?” Richard sounded more and more upset, and I could see I wasn't going anywhere until he got an answer.

  “No,” I almost shouted. “No, I…” My voice dropped to a whisper. “You were going to kill Genevieve—to eat her. I had to distract you some way so I…so I let you do what you did. I had to.”

  “So you didn't want me at all? Your body didn't react to mine in the least?” He was probing now, looking for answers I didn't want to give. He stepped closer to me and lifted my chin to look in my eyes. “Were you wet, Rachel?” he murmured. “Did you come?”

  “That's none of your business!” I jerked away from him and pointed at Genevieve's sprawled form. “Help me get her out to the car so I can take her to the ER. And after that, you need to clean up this mess. Bury the bodies or dispose of them some other way—I don't care. Just don't tell me about it.”

  I knew that was wrong, knew that I ought to be calling the police right now and letting them handle the bloody crime scene the empty warehouse had become, and the old me would have done just that. But when I tried to care, I just couldn't. The old me—the me that cared about truth and justice and due process—was dead. There was a new woman in her place. A woman who had been forged in blood and fire and pain and pleasure, and all she cared about—all I cared about—was getting out of here and forgetting everything that had happened in this Godforsaken place.

  Richard was still naked, his jeans ripped to shreds, but he didn't seem to mind it—or maybe he was just concentrating on what he could say to change my mind. He was smart enough not to speak a word until Genevieve was deposited safely in my car and strapped in, but obviously he wasn't about to let me go without a struggle. Before I could start the engine, he came around to the driver's side and grabbed my hands.

  “Rachel, don't go. Not like this.” There was desperation in his deep voice, and need, too, as if he could never get enough of me. I felt the pull of his body once more, the tingling between my thighs and at the sensitive tips of my breasts. Despite the ordeal I had been through tonight, or maybe because of it, my body still wanted him. But I refused to give in.

  “I have to go,” I told him. “I have to get Genevieve to the ER. And you have to clean up this mess.” I thought of the last time he'd “cleaned up a mess,” of his rough tongue between my legs, licking the last of his essence from my sex, and had to suppress a shiver of desire. I don't want him anymore, I told myself sternly. Not like that. Never again.

  “We're bonded now, Rachel,” he said, still looking intently into my eyes. “That means neither one of us is complete without the other. Don't break our bond so soon. I need you, and you need me. We'll never be happy apart, either one of us.”

  “Forget happy,” I said, frowning. “I'd settle for sane at this point. Richard, I just want things in my life to go back to normal. To go back to the way things were before…before you came back to me.”

  “Fine.” He released my hands and folded his arms across his broad, bloody chest. “I'll see you later.”

  “I hope not,” I said shortly. I slammed the door and drove away, leaving him standing in the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty

  The green, glowing numerals of my dashboard clock said 6:15 by the time I finally left Tampa General Hospital and turned my little car toward home. The first faint blush of dawn colored the sky a delicate gray-pink, and I was supposed to be married in less than five hours.

  I felt like hell.

  At least Genevieve was going to be okay. She'd regained consciousness not long after being admitted, and I had held her hand until the nurse made me leave. She seemed a little disoriented, but she was still sharp enough to take in my appearance and see that I wasn't my normal self.

  “Holy shit, Kemet,” she muttered when she got a good look at me. “What the hell happened to you? My head feels like a pride parade is going fu
ll tilt inside it, but you look like the parade ran you over.”

  “I'm fine,” I assured her. “And the doctor says you will be, too. Thanks for helping me; I'm just sorry you got knocked around in the process.”

  She waved her injury off with a flick of her wrist. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked, tactfully not mentioning Richard by name.

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, unfortunately.”

  She shook her head and winced. “Ow, my head. I knew I'd be sorry I helped you.”

  “Don't be sorry,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Some things we have to find out for ourselves. You're a good friend, Genevieve. I'll never forget you.”

  She looked alarmed. “Hey, you sound like you're gonna go end your life or something, Kemet. For God's sake, don't do anything you'll regret.”

  I laughed, a broken, choppy sound. “It's hard to regret if you're dead, you know. But no, I'm not going to commit suicide. I'm just going to get married. If Charles will still have me.”

  “Charlie-boy?” She frowned. “You're going back to him? But I thought your brother, er, I mean Richard, was the guy you were jonesing after.”

  “I thought he was, too.” I closed my eyes, seeing flashes of my ordeal in the cage, of the beast plunging into my open, unresisting body, of the pain and pleasure that had filled me.

  “So what changed?” Genevieve asked with genuine curiosity.

  I sighed. “I guess I found out that sometimes the dull, safe choice is the best. I've gotten involved in some…some pretty bizarre things since Richard came back into my life. I was seduced by the excitement of seeing him again at first, but now…now the normal, boring existence I have with Charles is looking pretty good.”

  “Well…” Genevieve looked at me doubtfully. “I guess now is the chick-flick moment when I'm supposed to say, 'follow your heart,' or some kind of shit like that. But to be honest, Kemet, I've seen too much on the job to tell you that. What you need to do is follow your gut. If you have warning bells going off inside your head, then don't ignore them. But don't just jump into one situation to get away from another.”

  “I'm not jumping into marriage with Charles,” I pointed out. “We've been engaged for what seems like forever. I'm just going to follow through.”

  “Okay.” Genevieve closed her eyes wearily. “I'm too beat to argue with you here, Kemet. Just take care of yourself and do the best you can to stay out of trouble.”

  “Lately my best isn't enough,” I said with a sigh. “Especially after…”

  “After what?” She cracked one eye to look at me. I thought about telling her that the Tampa PD had to worry a lot less about organized crime now and decided against it. She'd find out on her own soon enough, and besides, the nurse was shooing me out the door.

  “Never mind,” I said. “Just take care of yourself, Genevieve.”

  “You too,” she murmured, her eyes closing again.

  I left her dozing peacefully in the hospital bed and headed for home. I didn't want to do it, but I knew that a call to Charles was in order, especially since I had now decided that boring and predictable was good—very, very good. With Charles, I could be certain of a life of normalcy and stability. And even more importantly, I would never have to worry about my body betraying me into unnatural lusts or moonlight murders. Yes, that was definitely the way to go. Which meant I didn't have much time to get ready.

  On the way home as I watched the sunrise, I called my fiancé, hoping to get his voicemail again. It would be so much easier to just leave a message and show up at the wedding as though nothing had happened than to dredge up an explanation of why I had missed my own rehearsal dinner. But luck wasn't with me this time. Charles picked up on the first ring.

  “Rachel?” he asked, his voice sounding tense and irritated. “Where the hell are you? And where were you last night? Mother was beside herself when you didn't show.”

  I sighed wearily and thought, Here we go. “Didn't you get my message?” I asked him. “I was with a friend. I, uh, had to take her to the hospital. In fact,” I added with sudden inspiration, “I just left the Tampa General ER not ten minutes ago.” It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't really the truth either and telling it made my stomach hurt.

  “This must be some wonderful friend for you to stand me up at our rehearsal dinner.” Charles sounded extremely pissed. Or “put out,” as he might have said himself. “Are you going to stand me up for the wedding as well, dearest?” he asked in an icy tone.

  “No. I'll be there.” I swallowed the angry retort I wanted to throw at him. He deserved to be angry at me. In fact, he deserved to be much angrier than he was; he just didn't know it.

  “Are you certain?” Charles's voice softened a little. “I really was terribly worried about you, darling. You weren't home and you didn't answer your phone, and I guess I just assumed…well, that you'd reconsidered.”

  “You thought I got cold feet and decided to skip town?”

  “Well, from the way you've been ducking my phone calls the last two weeks and the cool reception I've been getting from when you do pick up, it didn't seem to be an unreasonable assumption,” he pointed out.

  I felt a sudden stab of guilt. Charles might be a bore sometimes, but he was still my fiancé. I'd made a commitment to him, and I knew I needed to honor it no matter how empty I felt when I imagined myself walking down the aisle to stand by his side.

  “I'm sorry,” I said in a low voice, taking the turn for my house. “I know I haven't really been emotionally available lately, Charles. I've just…I let myself get distracted.”

  “So I gathered,” he said dryly. Neither one of us mentioned Richard's name, but it hung in the air like a boulder between us.

  “I'm back on track now,” I said in a stronger voice, trying to assure myself as much as Charles. “No more distractions. And I promise I'll show up at the church on time.”

  “Well…all right then. I'll be waiting for you. You're going to make a ravishing bride, you know.” His voice dropped into a sexy growl. “And I, for one, can't wait to ravish you.”

  “And you're going to make a handsome groom. I…I can't wait.” I swallowed hard, hearing a click in my throat. “I better go, Charles. I just pulled up at my house and it's going to take me forever to get ready.”

  “Shall I send Mother or Ursula to help you?” he asked considerately. “I know they'd be more than pleased.”

  The thought of having to deal with either my nasty-nice, fake-polite future mother-in-law or the simpering Ursula at this time of day turned my stomach.

  “No, no,” I said hastily. “I'll be fine. In fact, I think I need a little alone time. To calm my nerves.”

  “Well, if you're sure…”

  “I am. But thank you, Charles. And I'll see you at Our Lady of the Immaculate Heart right on time, I promise.” It was like I was promising to keep a business appointment instead of talking about my own wedding, but I refused to let myself think about that.

  “All right then, I'll let you go. And, Rachel?” he said.

  “Hmm?” I was already getting out of the car, planning to take the hottest bath I could stand.

  “I love you.” Charles sounded so sincere that it stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “I…love you, too,” I forced myself to say. The words felt heavy and dry in my throat, but he didn't seem to notice.

  “Good, then get ready to stand up in front of five hundred people and say so.” He laughed and hung up.

  I flipped my phone closed and made my way to the door. A bath, I just needed a nice hot bath to wash the grime and craziness of the previous night off my skin, and then I'd be ready to get married. Wouldn't I?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I lit an aromatherapy candle and lowered myself into the steaming hot tub. Oh, God, this was exactly what I needed. I just wanted to relax and—

  “Ouch!” I gasped and winced as the heated water lapped over the sensitive flesh between my legs. Spreading my legs, I examined
myself carefully, noting that the soft lips of my sex were slightly swollen and red. And I was really sore. It wasn't surprising, considering what I'd been through the night before, but I still had no idea how I was going to explain it to Charles. Well, maybe I could plead wedding day exhaustion, and he would leave me alone at least for our first night as a married couple. I just hoped my condition would improve after that or I was going to be in a world of trouble. The absence of a hymen could be explained away as an accident with a fence post or riding a boy's bike when I was a girl, but the fact that I had been so obviously and thoroughly taken might be harder to pretend away.

  “I can't think about that now,” I told myself, sinking lower in the bath until the hot water lapped against my chest. “I'll worry about it later, after the wedding.”

  My skin was finally used to the heat of the water, and I felt my tense muscles begin to relax. The knots in my shoulders eased and my eyelids began to feel like they had been dipped in lead. The weariness and tension of the night before seemed to seep out of me, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

  I had the dream again—the boy, the moon, and the statues. Only this time when the wolf appeared, it changed into Richard. He held me close, and our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, my head tucked neatly under his chin and his muscular arms wrapped around me. I sighed in contentment because it felt so good. Richard was telling me that everything would be all right from now on. That we were bonded for life and he would never leave me. That he would always protect and defend and love me.

  His hot mouth trailed down my neck, and he sucked gently at my tight, pink nipples. I felt a wave of pleasure take me, and I moaned and opened my arms, welcoming his advances, offering myself completely for his love…

  The next thing I knew, strong arms lifted me out of the tub, and someone was patting me dry with a soft towel. I moaned in contentment as he considerately blotted the beads of water from the tips of my sensitive breasts and spread my legs wider so that he could pat my vulnerable sex dry as well.